


Number Five Thousand

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: ...kind of, Anal Sex, M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, Patrick's sex spreadsheet, Post-Canon, i'm so sorry y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28104006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: “Four thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine.” Patrick reads the number off his phone before glancing up to two scarily identical faces, both with raised eyebrows and fond amusement. “What?”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 64
Kudos: 321





	Number Five Thousand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lisamc21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisamc21/gifts).



> When we realised how close we were to 5,000 works posted in the Schitt's Creek tag, Lisamc21 said "Now I want a 5k celebratory fic where Patrick has kept a sex journal of his time with David and realizes it's their 5,000th time" and... well, my hand slipped. I banged this out (lol) in like an hour, so I'm very sorry for any typos. And, you know, in general.
> 
> The AO3 bug makes it less obvious that this was, in fact, the 5000th fic posted in the Schitt’s Creek tag 😅
> 
> Also, the sex tracker I mention in this fic [is real and it's pretty great!](https://nicetracker.app/)

Patrick never realised how ingrained the habit had become until the first time David made him come his brains out, in the borrowed privacy of Stevie’s apartment. He’d started using the Nice app after one of the times he and Rachel had gotten back together, determined not to make her feel neglected like she’d said she’d been feeling before their last breakup. He’d like the qualitative side to it; something definitive to tell him, _make an effort._

(In retrospect, the fact that he’d needed an app to nudge him into having sex with his fiancée probably should have been a red flag. It was more obvious once he knew what it felt like to _want,_ all the time.)

So that first time, after David had gone into the bathroom to grab them a washcloth, Patrick had picked up his phone and opened the app to add an entry for the first time in several months. “Hand job” had felt a little inadequate for the most mind-blowing sex he’d had in his life up to that point but he’d dutifully added it anyway, and he’d gotten a tiny thrill adding David as “new partner”. If he’d been able to give more than five stars he would have, but he was limited by the technology, and he tried not to flush too hot with embarrassment as he filled out _duration in minutes._

By the time David re-entered the room, washcloth in hand and gorgeously, gloriously naked, Patrick’s phone was back on the nightstand and he was no longer thinking about the app.

* * *

Patrick glances across the dining table, unable to contain his fond grin as David and Stevie bicker with each other between bites of their spaghetti. It’s an incredibly familiar sight after nearly a decade and a half of marriage, even if all three of them have a little more grey in their hair than the first time they had dinner together in this house. He’s not even paying attention to what they’re arguing _about_ until the sound of his own name pulls him into the conversation.

“Patrick and I have had sex, like, a thousand times, so I’m pretty sure it would have come up by now.”

Patrick snorts out a laugh at the look on Stevie’s face. “Ew, you really think you’ve had sex a thousand times?”

“We’ve been together sixteen years! That’s…” He trails off, clearly doing the math in his head as Patrick and Stevie both watch with amusement. Patrick quietly pulls his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and pulling up the Nice app. “Okay, now that I think about it we’ve probably had sex a lot _more_ than a thousand times, actually.”

“Four thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine.” Patrick reads the number off his phone before glancing up to two scarily identical faces, both with raised eyebrows and fond amusement. “What?”

Stevie shakes her head. “You’ve seriously recorded _every time_ you’ve had sex with him? That spreadsheet fetish goes further than I thought, huh?”

He’s had years to develop immunity to Stevie’s teasing, and yet he still feels himself getting a little warm under the collar. “It’s not a spreadsheet.”

“Oh, well that’s okay then.”

David laughs as he collects the dishes. He, of course, has known about Patrick’s weird tracking habit since long before they were even married, and likes to lean his head on Patrick’s shoulder and give his own opinion on the rating. “I’m just surprised with your weird anniversary obsession that you haven’t wanted us to celebrate the milestones.”

Patrick blinks after David’s retreating back for a moment before his eyes fall back to the screen, the 4999 staring innocuously back at him.

Milestone, indeed.

* * *

They don’t have sex after Stevie goes home, Patrick citing the truly impressive number of carbs they’ve both eaten. He falls asleep with David’s arms wrapped around him, their legs tangled together under the blanket, and his mind whirring with plans.

* * *

It’s Patrick’s day off the next day, and he spends all afternoon setting up the bedroom the way he wants it. He’s just lighting the last of the candles when he hears the door open, and he calls out David’s name before David can sink down on the couch.

When David appears in the doorway, confused face bathed in candlelight, Patrick’s breath hitches. After the better part of two decades he should be used to how gorgeous David is by now, and yet it still has this uncanny way of socking him straight in the solar plexus from time to time. 

“What’s all this?”

Patrick shrugs, all pretend nonchalance. “I’m not allowed to seduce my husband?”

David’s bewilderment melts into pleasure, his smile tucked into his cheek. “I suppose that’s acceptable.” He steps fully into the room, that insufferably sexy smirk that still makes Patrick weak at the knees after all this time sliding onto his face. “Is there a vision attached to this, or can I start taking my clothes off?”

Patrick swallows before clearing his throat. “You being naked is definitely part of the vision.”

“Hmm.” He peels his sweater over his head, laying it gently on the dresser. “So is you being naked, I hope.”

Patrick yanks his t-shirt over his head with far less care than David’s taking with his own clothes before he starts to unbuckle his belt, his attention more focused on each layer being peeled off his husband’s body than on what he’s doing. Once his clothes are off Patrick lies down on the bed, towel already spread out to protect the covers, and wraps a hand around his half-hard dick as he watches David peel off his underwear before fixing him with an amused stare.

“Not much of a seduction if you just lie there and wait for me to come to you.”

Patrick strokes himself a couple of times, his cock filling as his eyes wander down David’s body and back up to his face where his stare is now gratifyingly fixed on Patrick’s groin. “Seems to be working for you, though.” 

David kneels on the bed before dropping his hands down either side of Patrick’s head, bending down to kiss him soundly. “You always work for me.”

“There’s a joke about being the numbers guy in there somewhere.”

David laughs, a huff of hot air against his neck. “Do you want to talk about work, or do you want me to fuck you?”

Patrick groans as David trails a hand down his chest. “The second one, please.”

“Mm, so polite.” David grabs the lube from the bedside drawer before settling in between Patrick’s legs, brushing the back of one knee so that Patrick takes the hint and bends it, foot flat on the mattress. 

It’s not like how it was when they first got together, when every touch was a new discovery, but there’s excitement in the familiarity, in knowing each other’s bodies better than their own. Patrick knows exactly what to do with his tongue to get David coming in under five minutes, if he wants to, or how to hold him on the precipice until his whole body is shaking with the need to come. And David knows exactly how to finger Patrick open to make him wild and desperate; fingers almost dripping with lube until it’s just the right side of too much, long, smooth strokes, fingers brushing Patrick’s prostate on every thrust until Patrick is arching up off the bed, his begging for David’s cock barely coherent. 

“Okay, okay.” David sits back a little so that Patrick can watch as he wraps his still-lubed fingers around his own cock, stroking a few times until he’s nice and slick before he shuffles back in between Patrick’s thighs. Patrick wraps his legs around David’s waist, ankles hooked together and pulling him closer as he slides inside Patrick in one well-practised stroke.

“David, fuck.” No matter how many times they do this, that first press inside always sends fireworks shooting off behind Patrick’s eyes; that feeling of fullness, of nothing else existing outside of the two of them and where their bodies are connected. His hands come up to David’s face, pulling him down into a frantic kiss that David groans into as he tries to find a rhythm without breaking it.

Patrick waits until he can’t bear it anymore, until the sweat is dripping off David’s forehead and his arms are starting to tremble, before he finally reaches down and grabs his cock. David presses their foreheads together so he can watch too, his breathing harsh and erratic between them as Patrick jerks himself off, and then David’s cock hits his prostate at exactly the right angle and Patrick’s fist tightens involuntarily around himself as he comes with a long, loud groan. 

“God, you’re— love watching you— so good— love you— fuck—” David buries his face in Patrick’s neck as he comes, mouthing aimlessly at the skin there as Patrick runs his hands soothingly over David’s shoulders. Once he’s finished trembling David collapses on top of him with a satisfied hum, the weight of him pressing Patrick down into the mattress in a way that he can’t get enough of.

“Hey, David?”

“Mm?” The less syllables David uses immediately after sex the better the orgasm; Patrick smiles smugly to himself where David can’t see.

“Happy five thousandth time having sex.”

He knows the exact moment the words filter through David’s post-orgasmic haze, because he can feel the way David’s entire body stiffens. When he pushes himself up to stare at Patrick, he’s clearly torn between amusement and horror and Patrick chokes back a laugh at the warring emotions on his face.

“I hate you.” David can’t even get the words out without a flicker of a smile on the corner of his lips, though he’s clearly trying hard. “Why did I marry you?”

“For five thousand excellent sexual adventures?”

David shakes his head, his lips pursed. “You’re the worst.”

“Really?” Patrick pastes his most earnest, wide-eyed expression on his face. “I have it on good authority that you think I’m the best. In fact…” 

“Don’t you dare.”

“Why, David?” He lets his grin shake free. “You don’t think I’m _simply the best?”_

David hides his head in Patrick’s shoulder and laughs helplessly. “Why are you like this?”

“I don’t know.” Things are getting decidedly sticky at this point but Patrick pulls him closer anyway. “Must be all those five-star orgasms.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/).


End file.
